An Inheritance
by Serotiny
Summary: When an invitation to the Cameran palace is given to Ash, he could not be more excited. However, as he and his friends delve further into the history of Aura, secrets are revealed and Ash must decide to either accept or reject his inheritance.
1. Chapter 1

_Well, it is coming to be my first-year anniversary on as a member and I figured that it was time to do another story. Most likely, I will try to update every two weeks. I am planning for the story to be about ten chapters, maybe more, maybe this is not my first story, it is my first Pokémon story so please, no flames! So, without further ado, I bring you..._

* * *

**An Inheritance**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

It can be agreed that there is nothing more beautiful in the world than a garden tended to with love and devotion. A particular garden in Pallet Town is one of the finest.

This garden is the most fruit-bearing areas in the region. Plump, firm tomatoes hang off a branch, so weighted down that the stem is bent over like it is leaning toward a strong blown wind. The fruit, by the merest of margins, lightly brushes the ground, begging to be plucked. Healthy carrot plants bulge in the ground and the slightest orange of the vegetable can be seen. The leaves are perked and stiff and there is no sign of disease. With the uses of poles, the green beans grow on the side of the tiny Pallet residence growing past what would be the natural boundary if they were to grow in the wild. Instead, the plants have reached far past their capacity and are only held back by the most thoughtful of gardeners.

The land that this garden is cultivated on is quite ordinary. But, because of the woman who lives in the house nurtures the garden so regularly, like a mother and her newborn child, the garden flourishes almost unnaturally.

The woman who lives in this house has always been unaware of the miracle in her backyard. She had believed that anyone who would have attempted to grow a garden of their own would have received the same results. Never, in her wildest dreams, did she ever think that she was anything greater than a housewife and a mother.

Right then, she was tending to the garden, absentmindedly going through the motions of care examination of the rose leaves for signs of _Diplocarpon Rosea_. Her thoughts were not on her exquisite garden but rather her young son.

Once a ten year-old boy starting on a journey to be the best, he had matured to a less arrogant but more self-confident teenager. His battling style had vastly improved from the reckless one he had started with. Instead of going with the usual procedure of trying to trump your opponent with a type advantage, he would send out a Pokémon that, strategically speaking, was not the wisest choice. And yet, he still managed to conquer his foes time after time. After finally defeating Volkner in Sunyshore City, Ash decided to train in preparation for the Sinnoh League and his eventual confrontation with his rival, Paul.

For right now, Ash was traveling to the Cameron Palace to receive some sort of an inheritance from being the last Aura Guardian. He had talked Misty, his old traveling companion, into coming with him and Brock, both of the friends' old acquaintance, had decided to come as well. The old trio was back.

Wisely, Ash checked in with Professor Oak to exchange his Sinnoh team with his less experienced Pokémon from other regions. Ash's reasoning was that, eventually, he would run out of regions to battle in and, since he wanted to be a Pokémon Master, he needed to train his Pokémon equally and fairly and have them evolve and so he could reach the legendary 458 mark.

Some of Ash's older Pokémon had the chance of evolving if he put in the effort to train them and Ash would do just that. While he no longer had a true rival, he could not give up his arduous training lest both he and his Pokémon's strength failed.

As Mrs. Ketchum was multi-tasking by pruning her leaves and calculating how long it would take Ash to come back home; she mistakenly grabbed the rose bush's stem to hard and the thorns pierced her skin. Immediately, a scream of anguish filled the air and her Pokémon, Mr. Mime, hurriedly rushed to the house to grab a first-aid kit. The Mr. Mime sprinted from the house, sprang from the porch, and landed gracefully next to Mrs. Ketchum's bleeding hand. With his pudgy fingers, he gently grabbed Mrs. Ketchum's wrist and tenderly dabbed petroleum on the punctured skin. After doing so, he sprayed anti-germ on the cut and wrapped a bandage around her hand with a cheerful, "Mime, mime!"

"Thank you, Mr. Mime." Delia Ketchum gasped as her Pokémon led her into the house to rest. The loss of blood was relatively minimal but before her flesh was cut, she had had a premonition of the most dreadful kind. She had an ominous feeling of the outcome of Ash's short new journey and the possibilities of harm that could happen in the Cameron Palace. This premonition alone caused the cry of despair and the dazed Mrs. Ketchum hardly noticed the damaged palm.

As she walked away, neither her, nor her Pokémon saw the drops of blood left on the thorns of the rose bush as they slowly trailed down the stem, nor the slight drizzle coming, giving the appearance that it and the entire garden was weeping of a new tragedy introduced into the world.

* * *

The road to the palace was a decidedly long one.

Despite the surprising amount of variety on Route 118, from the Ratatta nibbling on the greens of the grass and the new foliage of the budding aspens to the Pidgey gathering sturdy sticks to form the framework of their nests, warily eyeing, and possibly attacking, travelers who meandered too close, seeing the same scenery was tedious. Of course, with the menacing clouds quickly approaching on the eastern front, the constant tranquility emanating from the entire landscape would be fleeting.

Even though the duration of their time in the Cameron Palace was to be a short one, the weight of his backpack, the provisions that were in there, and the Mouse Pokémon on his right shoulder ensured that the muscles Ash earned on the road during his days of travel in the different regions were not to be lost. While Misty might have teased him about his casual indifference to the time restraints that were upon them now and how it was likely due to his misplacing of lean muscles, Ash was certain—at least almost certain—that she was just teasing for the sake of teasing. Brock, while he once might have stood between the pair to stop the fighting, decided that Ash was being surprisingly mature and agreeable about her statement, and allowed the comment to go unopposed.

Now, Ash was lingering behind his two friends to gaze at their countenances and compare them with his memories of their past selves.

Brock, his closest human, male friend was as tall as ever with very little difference. His usual, stable attitude was as reliable as it used to be with a little more confidence than usual. While Brock might have been the most mature of the group, he did not use to have an air of confidence which only comes from the personal experiences one has from the world. For every solid step he took in his gait, the world could easily see the innate, quiet power Brock easily emanated.

As for his physical appearances, not much had changed except for his increased height and his increasingly scarred hands that marked him as the former-Gym Leader of Pewter City.

Though he doubted it, judging from his reaction of possibly meeting a princess descended from ancient times, Ash could only hope that his mental capabilities towards women had changed as well.

Glancing from the roughness to the softest of the group (where had that thought come from?), the Pallet trainer examined his best female friend.

At first glance, not much had changed in the intertwining years of their departure. But as he continued to look at Misty, Ash noticed small traits that in his younger years, he would have never paid attention to. Her once grating and irritating voice had evolved into lilting soprano voice that no longer spoke of condescending thoughts towards him but rather thoughtful inquires about his past few years and how they had gone.

Of course Ash, being Ash, failed to notice the almost jealous tone of voice she took when she heard of the other girls he had been traveling with. Nor did he detect the careful questioning Misty used when she discussed his relationships with them.

Her voice was not the only aspect of her that had changed. Her once flamboyant attitude that she shamelessly flaunted to everyone had denatured into a more controlled manner. Just as her untamed, flaming red hair had been tamed with clips and other kinds of hair products; it appeared as though the time spent as the Cerulean Gym Leader calmed her too.

_Who would have guessed?_ Ash thought. Already, his attention was wandering to the events that were soon to take place in the Cameron Palace.

Misty eyed her friend speculatively.

Much had changed in the extensive years they had been separated. No longer did he show the forbearance of a mere child, throwing a temper tantrum when he lost a battle or succumbed to her superior intellect in a sparring match of theirs. Instead, he now had the grace to accept defeat with ease. And not only did he lose with grace, but Ash took his loss personal and used it to improve his battling techniques and inspire him to overcome his opponent. Though she never thought she would see the day when she could claim that Ash finally gained maturity and lost his infamous denseness.

The muscles she had pretended where absent was the most outrageous lie Misty had told him. Ash had already, by their world's standards, been a man since the day he turned ten, six years ago. However, the journey he had taken across four of the largest regions for Pokémon battling in the world, the different assortment of leagues he participated, even won, and the large array of Pokémon he had befriended then captured, was nothing compared to the growth in his character.

She stared at his eyes for a moment, examining the glazed look in the russet orbs until, immediately; they sharpened and looked her way. The words that had been at the tip of her tongue, ones drenched with Misty's deadly wit and smothered with mockery, left her promptly. The uncharacteristically speechless Misty stumbled upon suitable words and came up with nothing. A growing smirk beginning on Ash's lips exhibited his amusement at the Water Trainer's fumbling and inability to communicate. Wildly flinging her thoughts in any direction, she floundered onto a safe topic. She absolutely refused to look like an idiot to Ash

And, her words belying her disoriented mind, hurriedly exclaimed, "Ash Ketchum, I challenge you to a Pokémon battle!"

* * *

_Huh. A slow start but, what can you expect from the first chapter? See you in two weeks, February 28, 2010._

_Thus, I depart._


	2. Chapter 2

_I bet you believe that I would not update like I said. Well, I am going to try and stay consistent, though I offer no promises._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon._

* * *

**An Inheritance**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

_Click._

_Click._

_Click._

The consistent sound of a professor and his faithful computer typing data that must not be forgotten, lest the younger generation did not have any knowledge to use, as a reference was not unusual, echoed in the quiet of the morning. While the sleepy town of Pallet was dozing until a more appropriate hour occurred, the learned scholars diligently wrote his information.

Stopping briefly, he smiled bemusedly at his assistant who swore that, no matter what, would accompany the elderly man into the early hours of the morning. He lasted for two hours until he conceded to slumber. The Professor was not surprised as the young assistant had the job to repaint the fence posts, weed his herbal garden, and begin an irrigation system from the Lake sector to the Forest sector, along with his usual chores in his house.

With a flat plain and barely even any gentle slopes, it is not surprising that the highest point in Pallet Town was not unoccupied. Instead, on the crest of the hill was an aging, dignified house, standing firmly against a windmill, the generator for electricity on the Pokémon ranch. This ingeniously-crafted home faced the east so that it would remind him to rise early for the chores and to attempt to go to bed early: an impossible feat for a busy man.

Because of a request from Delia Ketchum, the Professor was determinedly examining the expensive invitation given to Ash Ketchum. The rare, highly sought Cameran paper was only used in formal occasions and for the Queen's insignia and signature to also be on the document was unusual in itself.

Of course, as a man of science, while his particular field was extensively Pokémon and their habitats, it was his responsibility to study anything that advanced knowledge. To his understanding, the probability that an average boy from a small town, with no formal training could somehow harness the abilities of Aura, could possibly be a descendent from Sir Aaron, was highly unlikely. The only possibility of the happenstance occurring was if it were to occur to a certain Pallet trainer. He could only applaud the adolescent and his capacity for accomplishing extraordinary events.

Suddenly, a cacophonous noise splintered the tranquility of the early morning and the Pokémon professor nearly fell out of his seat by the computer. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he noticed that the thud was only the sound of his assistant falling out of the couch and slamming into the ground. In spite of the plunge to the cold tile floor, Tracey Sketchit continued to sleep, a little drool slowly sliding down his countenance. Without a whisper, Professor Oak gently draped the boy's arms around his neck and dragged him to the maroon coach and pulled the cotton blanket onto his still form, unaware once again.

"Beware...Cameran..."

Professor Oak shoulders stiffened and, on the balls of his feet, he swiftly turned around. The odd mutterings of his assistant were lost once again to the venues of snores and other sleep talking as he restlessly turned in his makeshift bed. Despite the elderly man leaning in, no more insight was shed onto the situation; uncomfortable, he rose to his feet and slowly paced to his desk, his mind in deep thought.

As he approached his desk, the professor absentmindedly made a quick detour to the open window in the room. While the morning had began with a burning sun and barely any clouds, if those swiftly approaching storm clouds were anything to judge by, a storm was nearing and he would rather experience it with a closed window.

After it was shut, Professor Oak once again began pacing.

Now, Professor Oak did not see himself as a suspicious man by nature. While his profession did require an inquisitive mind, which can also be seen in other professors of the regions, a hypothetical job description would not call for a distrustful person.

Professor Oak did not see himself as a suspicious man by nature. However, judging by the curious letter and the anxiety his assistant was expressing, not to mention the unease slowly stirring in his heart, something was not right with the situation. Thankfully, if Oak had any worries, he could immediately contact Ash or his friends with a phone call or, if worse came to worse, inquire that his grandson notify his rival of the possible dilemma. Unfortunately, Professor Oak did not feel the need to do either of those actions. After all, he was no longer a young man. Most likely, the apprehension was just another symptom of growing old.

* * *

Ash gaped openly at his opponent's cerulean-hued eyes.

Was she serious? When was the last time they had battled? Did she even have Pokémon on the quick journey to the Cameran palace? Of course she does, Ash chided himself. When does a Gym Leader, former or not, not have Pokémon on her?

All these thoughts stole across his head, across his countenance, before he schooled himself on controlling his facial movements.

Misty felt slight confusion as she saw the easily visible emotions flit across his face and then, seeing her study his expression; immediately disappear. For the longest amount of time, nearly as long as she knew him, had believed that Ash never had any doubt about himself and his battling prowess; his infallibility to lose. To see him with, for Ash, these foreign emotions were unsettling. Shoving aside her unease and her desire to examine him at a more appropriate time, she smirked and pressed her advantage of his doubt.

"Scared, Ashy-boy?" Misty taunted.

Bristling at the old nickname his rival, Gary Oak, called him, the Pallet Trainer rose to the challenge, for her--the bait. Reaching for a Pokéball on his belt, he clutched the first one that fell into his grasp and held in front of him--an answer to her _challenge._

"Never." He claimed solemnly. While his statement was very serious, his posture very stern, his eyes danced happily at the friendly banter they partook in and the prospects of the upcoming battle, which would finally proclaim the ultimate trainer between the two of them.

"Then let's battle. But first, we need to find a place that has water in it. Just to be fair."

"What? Scared, Mister?" Ash copied her taunt but with colorful variation of the usage of a childish nickname.

Not even dignifying his words with a response, Misty decided to ignore the imitation and started looking for an appropriate battlefield instead. Slightly to her right, she noticed a long creek that stretched alongside the worn road they had been traveling. Vaguely, she thought of querying as to how long they had been traveling alongside it without noticing it but, instead, banished thought.

She did, however, comment on the lack of wild Pokémon that would naturally aggregate to such a desirable habitat. Easily, Ash dismissed the question.

"Well, I think—"

"Hey! Look!" Ash bounded away from his companions and towards a rickety bridge that was clearly falling apart. To anyone with any common sense, the decrepit wooden bridge was clearly off-limits due to mere age of the thing. No one would be stupid enough to cross it; the architect of the bridge had never met Ash Ketchum.

With the grace of a Tauros and the tenacity of Granbull, the Pallet Trainer thundered across the bridge, the brief nap that the Pikachu on his shoulder managed to earn was completely erased. For a moment, the structure ominously shook and Misty's heart skipped a beat. Ash, unaware, as usual, did not notice but, instead, sprinted for the other side with single-minded determinedness. Collapsing, it truly began to fall into the murky depths of the river below; Ash leaped into the air and tumbled to the other side.

Misty could only gape at him as he stood up and brushed off a perturbed Pikachu with one hand and an imagined grass stain with the other, smirking all the while.

As if chuckling to himself about an inside joke, he called out to her across the river, "No need to worry!"

Internally, she blushed; externally, she simply scoffed. "Are you done dawdling or are you going to continue wasting my time?"

Slightly pouting his lips, he muttered, "Last time I try to impress you." Pikachu's ears twitched and it slightly rolled it's eyes.

"Hmmm?"

"Never mind." His frown deepened.

"Are you two done yet?" Brock, who had been silently sitting to the side, letting the two bait each other, decided to hurry along the battle with some assistance from him. If given the chance, the lovebirds would continue bickering and, preferably, he wanted them to reach the Palace in two hours if they could.

"Yup!" The Trainer cheerfully replied. "How about you go first, Misty?"

Not wanting to incur the ex-Pewter Gym Leader's wrath, she noiselessly cursed Ash's name, knowing he would have the type advantage in the first round. She dug through her coquelicot-colored bag, avoided the Pokéball that she knew held her exasperating Psyduck and sought her chosen Pokémon.

Misty pulled out the Pokéball and tossed it up into the air and declared, "Say hello to Kingdra!" At the peak of it's toss, the Pokémon released itself and gracefully emerging from within, immediately plunged into the river.

Kingdra, of course, do not evolve naturally, and must be traded, no matter how well-trained they might be. It was definitely a hassle to find a rare Dragon Scale, pay the expensive price, and not to mention, find someone she could trust enough to return her dazzling Kingdra after it evolved. All of the hassle, though, was completely worth it when Ash stared shell-shocked at her new Water Pokémon.

"How did you get that?" He dumbly asked, not able to take his eyes of it.

Unable to resist, she immaturely retorted haughtily, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

That reply snapped Ash out of his daze and his hands traveled to his side, reaching for the perfect Pokémon. With a snap of the wrist, he called forth his companion.

"I choose you, Totodile!"

With a bounce in its step, the adorable Crocodile Pokémon showed its readiness with a deceiving charm that belied its inner strength. This was not a wise move on Ash's part as a Water Pokémon versus a dual type of Water and Dragon would be considered amateur at best, moronic at worst.

_I doubt that even Ash is stupid enough to make that kind of mistake. He must have a trick up his sleeve._ She narrowed her eyes at his slight grin almost as if in response to internal questioning of his motives.

"Finally," Brock murmured, "Ready?" A quick glance to each side, both gave a stiff nod, their concentration was solely on the upcoming match.

"Alright. Begin!"

* * *

_I am so sorry. I had thought that I would be able to begin the battle this chapter but I kind of rambled. This battle and its outcome are kind of central to the plot so I felt that it should have a good lead in. Also, I doubt that I will ever be able to write long chapters each time so I consistently write short. Heh, heh. Well, see you in another two weeks: uh, uh, March 14, 2010._

_Thus, I depart._


	3. Chapter 3

_I bet you thought I wasn't going to remeber to update,huh? Well I didn't (almost but did not), by my clock, it is still March 14, 2010. Well not much else to say except for I got the Pokémon game SoulSilver and I am excited to try it out. Note how self-sacrificing I am when it comes to your happiness. That's all._

* * *

**An Inheritance**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

The battlers eyed the other carefully across the chasm, attempting to decipher the hidden agendas in their stances.

While Misty knew the protocol of letting the trainer have the first move, she decided to strike first, catching Ash off guard.

"Despite how—" the Pallet trainer began snootily.

"Kingdra, dive!" Before Ash could get a word in edgewise, she ordered her Pokémon into the depths of the slow running river, biding its time for the appropriate moment.

_Blast!_ Ash cursed. Though he thought that he had gotten rid of his immature pride ages ago, it reappeared with the most atrocious timing. Misty had obviously moved first in order to confound his bedrock-deep sense of strategy. And worst yet, know that the dragon Pokémon was underwater hidden, he was at the disadvantage of having his teammate wide out in the open, defenseless. It would be utter foolishness to try and send Totodile into the abyss after Kingdra as it could possibly result in the unleashing of a trap.

If Ash was considered in idiot, he might as well be thorough.

"Follow that Kingdra." Other Pokémon, with their instincts sharpened in battle, would have given Ash an incredulous look as to the sheer obviousness of a trap. The Crocodile Pokémon, whether it was through utter nonsensical behavior or an unerring loyalty, dove nose first into the unknown. Surprisingly, the jump did not elicit a sound; for a moment, across the river, both sides were silent.

This ended when Misty called out sharply, "Agility and then Smokescreen." Although it was impossible to see if Kingdra was following the first command, the muddy waters became even filthier as the ink from the Dragon Pokémon slowly drifted to the top for an indiscernible location.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's good for the environment," Ash commented facetiously, "Want me to ask Pikachu to electrocute some fish while we're at it?"

"Shut up" was the sharp retort, "I'm not done. Now, Bubblebeam."

Another sarcastic statement was on his lips impulsively before the implications fully hit him. Due to the Smokescreen, Totodile could not see. The bubbles recently released were translucent. Therefore, the explosive orbs were floating harmlessly in the water until an innocent passerby unsuspectingly bumped into the sphere. The pure Water Pokémon was sitting in a minefield.

The best move in this situation would be to steer Totodile to land where, as a terrestrial Water Pokémon, they would have the advantage. Clearly, staying in the dangerous river was not an option. Ash bit his lip.

"Nothing more to say? Fine. It's my move. Let's finish this with a Whirlpool."

The ink that had concealed the explosive bubble steadily began to congeal on one spot, along with any other debris in the riverbed. Misty was trying to end the battle with the crocodile Pokémon knocked out, trapped in a vortex of deadly spheres. He had to act quickly.

"Totodile, spin and use Water Gun counterclockwise!" Misty understood the implications instantaneously and glanced at the Pokémon trainer astonished. Automatically, whirlpools in their hemisphere ran in a clockwise motion. The idea of using that move was to force the opponent into one spot and either, like Misty, add in a destructive ingredient or use a destructive move while they were trapped and defenseless. However, as Totodile began spinning in the opposite direction, the constrictive vortex of water was sluggishly stopped and began to release it hold on the Crocodile pokémon. More importantly, the added streaks of cleanliness were clearing the inkiness Kingdra had spread and was rapidly taking the offensive.

"Now, continue shooting a Water Gun upstream and swim parallel to the shore." The Water Pokémon, now visible, with a smile on its snout, happily agreed. At a nod from his trainer, the Pokémon spun out of the water with the grace of a Kirlia; he hardily looked winded. With no noise, he landed on the grass besides the river and began his characteristic dancing, disregarding the battle completely. The river's current took the darkness and the orbs away and Totodile escaped the tricky trap; Kingdra simply stayed at the river's depths and let it float overhead.

"While this is fun and all, I believe that it is time to get serious."

"Ha. Ha Ha. HAHAHA. Oh boy, that was rich," The Cerulean Gym leader wiped a mock tear from her eye, "If you think those are the only moves I have invented, you are in for a huge surprise."

Misty did not feel the need to add that she was surprised how seemingly easily Ash countered her strategy with relatively little damage to the small Water Pokémon. In fact, the Pallet trainer utilized him to his fullest extent; the general fluidity of Water Pokémon and the specialized movements of Totodile accurately dismantled the plot. So it was true; Ash had improved significantly. Too bad he hadn't done so when she was traveling with them.

For that jabbing remark, Ash quickly retaliated. "Let's go Totodile, stay on the surface and head straight for Kingdra."

"Don't let him get so close. Ice Beam!" The Crocodile Pokémon halted its trek towards the Dragon Pokémon and began dodging the frigid beam.

When Totodile stopped its race towards the Dragon Pokémon, he expected Misty to tell Kingdra to dive again or perhaps call another offensive attack that would stunt his growing momentum and give her a chance to turn the tides. What she did instead surprised him; Misty allowed the Ice-type attack to be maintained. Misty's highly trained Pokémon did not likely have such bad aim if the last situation was anything to judge by. For a few seconds, Ash contemplated the continued use of an exhaustive move such as Ice Beam until he stumbled upon the answer. Water had a certain freezing temperature—0 °_C _which could be lowered by salts. Usually the move, Ice Beam, did not freeze water naturally and was difficult to accomplish. However, those battles when Water Pokemon used Ice Beam often happened on a battlefield of water fitted to model the ocean. This was not the case now. The precious salts that lowered the freezing point were absent; Totodile was increasingly finding himself trapped in a decreasing area of water.

In a short amount of time, on the Crocodile Pokémon's head poked through the frozen layer that was two feet thick.

"Quickly! Scratch the ice." Despite his desperate attempts, a shaded shape beneath the ice was approaching Totodile's location with alacrity.

"Full-powered Brine." The tired state of Kingdra would definitely increase the power of the Water move. Similar to a geyser, Totodile was thrusted from his confinement into the sky. At the climax of his ascent, it was evident that the Pokémon would land hard on the ice.

"Come on, Totodile, please get up." The tiny reptilian Pokémon struggled to place its paws underneath him. At his inexorable determination, his trainer and the Pikachu on the sidelines gave a cheer.

"Its over" rang out across the river. Ash glanced up to find a serious-faced Misty staring unnervingly at his laboring Totodile.

"Kingdra, I know that you are tired. Last move. Giga Impact." The dark spot that had been below the hole left by the Crocodile Pokémon's body and moved steadily to the cracks surrounding him for the hard slam.. The Dragon Pokémon, sluggishly at first, increased its tempo upward and, even through the thick ice, a lavender hue began to fluoresce.

Realizing his current predicament, the Crocodile Pokémon tried to move away faster but his muscles were not properly responding

"NO" emerged from Ash's mouth but was unheard as the cracking of the frozen water overrode the sounds. A blue shape rose from the air with Totodile at the snout of the Kingdra. The tiny Reptilian Pokémon had his back curved in an awkward angle as the Giga Impact took its toll on his body. The torment was not over, Ash realized with a shock. To truly finish the battle, Kingdra was pushing the other Water Pokémon back towards the earth with him on top of Totodile. A second time, a sickening thud was heard and a triumph Kingdra slithered off its opponent and slipped into the hole it created with the devastating move.

Totodile was still.

"And the winner of this round goes to…"

Ash did not stop to hear Brock's word as he disregarded his own safety and stumbled across the ice towards the fallen comrade. He knelt down and scooped up the tiny bundle into his arms and silently crossed the river to the opposite shore. Misty was quietly congratulating the tired, but victorious, Kingdra on a job well done. She returned him to his Pokéball and looked apologetically at Ash.

"Look, Ash—"

He ignored his excuses and marched over to Brock and commanded, "Heal him." Then, he continued his solitude march towards the palace with an uneasy Pikachu at his side.

Brock gestured at the Cerulean Gym Leader to follow them; Misty flinched.

The trio was once again on the road to Cameran Palace; however, a seed of antagonism was sown and flourished under the sinister clouds on the horizon.

* * *

_Okay, so I have a AP Biology trip where I am leaving the country. I will not be able tp update in awhile. Hopefully, sometime in mid-April to late-April. See you later!_

_Thus, I depart._


	4. Chapter 4

_Heh, heh,heh... Um... Sorry about the lack of updating. I am in the thick of AP testing right now; so, in a week, everything should be back to normal. Enjoy and review!_

* * *

**An Inheritance**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Gary Oak was not a delivery person. He did not receive paychecks to deliver mail, nor was "mail carrier" imprinted on his résumé. Yet, despite his professional credentials, he was still being used to deliver an unnecessary message to an undeserving individual.

In his days as a trainer, he would have driven a car with his cheerleaders, who would have lavished praise on his many and fabulous exploits. Now, because he was (_hopefully_) more mature than in his childhood days, he modestly allowed his lab assistants at his personal lab to borrow his vehicle.

As was standard, most Pokémon Professors lived as far away from metropolitan areas as possible so that Pokémon could be studied in the purest environment available. Since Gary too followed this principle, it was necessary at times to go or send his employees to get supplies to stock the lab. Unfortunately, his lab was small in comparison to most laboratories and especially diminutive when looking at regional Professors' work places; therefore, as was customary, Gary received only one car in proportion to the area his Pokémon lived on.

At the time of this gift, he could not have cared less that he was starting on a minimum payroll; he was finally beginning his newly-founded dream career of being a Pokémon Professor. While it was true that he had once desired to be a Pokémon Master, after losing in the Silver Conference to Ash, along with other circumstances, his dreams changed. No trivial tribulation of only having one car could ruin his moment.

At this time, though, the glory of his acheivement had worn down to weariness and Gary could not help but wish once more for possibly another car as he rode a bicycle down a dreary unknown road.

Earlier today, in the beginning of the afternoon, after he had finished the daily chores required for Professors to do to make sure their Pokémon research facility ran smoothly, the young Pokémon Professor called Professor Oak's house. These were the occasional talks his grandfather and him had and were, by no means, an unusual affair.

At first, when the Professor had begun calling him during his work hours, Gary was embarrassed that his grandfather had to call him to "check up" on his business and see how his research was prospering. This embarrassment then converted into anxiousness at what his colleagues possibly thought of these conversations. As the grandson to a famous Professor was used to, the younger Professor hypothesized that the scientific community likely accused him, behind his back, of worming his way into a facility just by being related to a well-known man.

After awhile, his perceived notions were consciously dismissed, on the grounds that he simply did not have enough time to balance his wonderings what his enemies thought of him and the duties of taking care of the laboratory.

It was during this call that his barmy grandfather had randomly asked him for a favor. They had been discussing the possible creation of Pokémon eggs and what phenomenon led the Pokémon to choose to hatch in a specified atmosphere. While looking back on the professional debate, it seems obvious now that his grandfather was a bit on edge and slightly tense. His grandson could easily interpret the Pallet Professor's pretended glances toward his watch as another nervous tick he had recently taken to in his old age.

Right when they were getting to the heart of the argument, the very essence that induced Pokémon to acquire eggs and if it compounded with evolution in its entirety, his grandfather had casually asked if Gary had any plans today. As much as he wanted to indignantly tell his grandfather that he had a job and of course he had things planned, he bit his tongue and politely humored the older man by professing he had no plans. The Professor looked relieved at the reply, sarcastic though it may be, and swindled his grandson out of a perfectly normal afternoon to do an unwelcoming task.

Pranks, Gary could take. Bribery, he could take as well. However, Gary could never stand being commanded outright as he was today. Slightly mischievous in his youth, he had never openly rebelled against authorities as his peers tended to do. Instead, he would work diligently to gain the authority figure's respect and then politely refute their suggestions, trying to persuade them to adhere to his advice. When commanded to do something, there was little opportunity for proposals or his ingenuity.

_I__f my coworkers ever heard of this incident_, Gary thought dully_, I would never hear the end of it._

He had argued vehemently against the elderly man's desire for him to check on his old childhood rival, Ash Ketchum; Ashy-boy was surely old enough to take care of himself by now. Though on friendlier terms than in the past, neither of the two would want to purposely seek out the other to simply be a reprimand to the other. Both had become well-respected figures in their domains and they respected each other from a distance. Ash and he were never really bosom friends, as his grandfather tended to believe.

Nonetheless, the Professor's pleas for him to take action, even his grandfather's brandishing excuses (_"of course I can't go, my knees are really acting up…")_ prompted him to, reluctantly, chase after Ash into an unknown area. After the ill-begotten discussion ended, Gary without any preparation, looked up any possible routes Ash could have taken to get to Cameran palace. Of course, he would have taken the least used route.

Not giving the map he printed of the PokéMap Quest website a second-glance, he gave his assistants, a completely vague explanation and wholly thorough instructions on how to take care of everything in his absence. Just from looking at the amused smirks they exchanged throughout his monologue, one could correctly assume that the tale of Gary Oak, an accomplished professor, running errands for his grandfather was spreading faster than one Grimer's repulsive stench in an environment-friendly city.

Just what he needed. Another problem he would return to.

For now, it would just be best that he concentrated on the concealed road. In hindsight, Gary should have just taken a main road to the palace and met Ash when he arrived, rather than try his luck at guessing correctly the backwoods path he knew Ash would have taken. His luck never compared with Ash's though, which explained his frustrations of being completely and hopelessly lost.

The hastily-given instructions his grandfather gave were efficiently quick but not exactly as precise as the legendary Pokémon Professor was known for. A rest off the beaten route would allow the grandson to have a chance to adjust his way. Leaning slightly to one side, Gary pulled off the ancient trail to perhaps get his bearings to where he should go next.

Leaning the borrowed bicycle against a eucalyptus tree, the young Professor strove to decipher the decrepit map he was forced to snag from his infantile library. As with any material, whether it was intriguing or annoying, he studied the cartography with earnest, trying to interpret the illegible print.

He did not hear the unnatural snapping of twigs behind him nor the unusual silence in a forest that was supposed to be teeming with Pokémon.

The unnoticed observer, who had been tracking Gary since he left his research lab, casually sidled up behind the eucalyptus that Gary was leaning on and seemed to be measuring his options. In a split second, when the Pokémon Professor's head briefly rose to examine his surroundings and compare it with the inaccurate map, the decision was made. The web was already set for the unaware Caterpie to wander in to.

"Now, what do we have here?"

An unerringly monotone voice floated close to Gary's ear and, instinctively, his hand flew to his belt to snag a Pokéball. He would forever curse the day he decided to allow his Pokémon to reside in the fields inside the boundaries of the lab. Usually he was not stupid enough to forgo bringing any Pokémon with him, but in his hurry to leave, any thoughts for protection left his mind.

While most wanders he met on the road were usually trainers and therefore harmless, the mask on the figure somehow told him that his intentions were not exactly noble. He had immediately glanced towards the person's chest, guessing to see a symbol that indicated what evil syndicate he belonged to. To his moderate surprise, neither the long-sleeved shirt, nor the long charcoal pants gave any clue to the stranger's affiliation. The full belt of Pokémon did not bode well for him though.

Even the young Professor could tell that the person who was able to ambush him easily had an arrogant attitude. The nonchalant tossing of a Pokéball in the stranger's hand led him to believe that the stalker had already preconceived the notion to have some type of confrontation. He leaned away from him and braced himself for an attack.

He could not let the stalker know, however, that he had already begun a plan to escape the deadly situation.

"Not much." Gary answered as he feigned brushing leaves of his lab coat (as if he didn't make himself more of a target wearing the dratted jacket on) so that, in reality, he could compose himself from the surprise.

"Oh that's good because I believe there is something my boss wants something investigated. Something that only you could assist us with." Neither of them felt the need to mention his pretended courtesy was unnecessary, with him Pokémon-less, the professor posed as much of a threat as a Magikarp did to a Persian.

Gary continued the charade, "Well, I'm sorry but I am on a tight schedule and don't have time to make unplanned stops." One foot was slowly placed behind the other and the hand that had been resting on the bicycle's handles tightened its grip.

Even though the other person was wearing a mask, Gary could somehow tell that he was smiling. He, too, took a step forward, a step closer to Gary. The moronic prey was just beginning to realize it was trapped in a sturdy web. The fool.

"Unfortunately, you do not have a choice in the matter." The affable pretense quickly faded into a nastier tone; the Pokéball in his hand was clenched. "Come. Now, before I get upset."

His last sentence went unheard as Pokémon Professor scrambled onto the bicycle and pedaled furiously. No longer caring about the right way, Gary single-mindedly concentrated putting as much distance between him and the other person.

The desolate forest whirled around him, disregarded. Of course he did not notice the Haunter floating dead-center in his path. A collision was inevitable.

Although he was a Professor now, that did not mean that he had lost his Trainer physique. From the fall, he sprang up and leapt to his fallen transportation and quickly righted it. The merrymaking Ghost Pokémon hindered his escape plan; instead, it stuck its tongue out at him.

"Not now—", he muttered and the Pokémon froze in the air. The benevolent grin on its face morphed into one of malevolence as it mirrored its masked owner's expression. Lavender-hued rings departed from the highly trained Haunter's eyes and Gary knew, automatically, the Ghost Pokémon was using Hypnosis on him to lure him into a deep slumber .

Behind him, through a haze of dreamy mist that muffled his senses, he heard the man say, "Well done, Haunter. At least we do not have to go through the hassle of chasing and then capturing him. The boss will be well-pleased." The Caterpie was snagged with little resistance.

The forest that had been his only companion on the journey to find Ash, was slowly enveloped into darkness and, despite his best efforts, even he could not fight off the powers of a Pokémon's Hypnosis. Gary Oak, a person who neither delivers messages nor is randomly kidnapped, had only one thought in mind as he submitted to the dregs of sleep as his pursuers closed in on him.

_Crap.__

* * *

_

_Well, that's all for now, folks (poor Gary)! I plan to be updating May 23, 2010. See you then! Oh, don't forget to review! I don't have anything to add! ARRGGHH! The curse of the exclamation point is upon me!_

_Thus, I depart._


	5. Chapter 5

_Seven months, eh? Well, while there is definitely no apology good enough for the lack of time I put into this story, I still apologize. I am not going to promise strict biweekly updates, but I will definitely update more. Thank you, reviewers! After rereading the reviews, you have certainly inspired me to write once again. And thank you for all who have read!_

_And without further ado…_

* * *

**An Inheritance**

**

* * *

****Chapter 5**

No words were shared among the friends as the carriage slowly traveled to their destination, Cameran Palace at a slightly faster, but not necessarily smoother, rate. Even at the cost of a bumpier ride, all were secretly glad that the rain that had begun to fall would be unable to drench them. And with an experienced driver, who knew the area intimately, there would be no chance for them to get lost, an easy task in the blinding rain.

Brock's vain attempts of lifting the tense mood in the vehicle had ended long ago and silence reigned for the duration of their ride. He easily saw and accurately guessed the lack of endeavoring by both Ash and Misty to rectify the situation as both, as they tended to do, believed they were in the right. They believed that someone (not themselves) needed to apologize—until then, they could indubitably wait. They were Pokémon Trainers, after all; waiting was a skill that was learned ages ago.

Similar to Brock, Pikachu also gave up any hopes of the argument being brief and burrowed itself in Ash's warm, dry backpack as if it expected to wait out the cold shoulder storm happening between the two trainers. As it was, it had not had food in a while and it chewed vigorously on dried Leppa berries in the meantime. It could be just as stubborn as its Trainer and his best friend.

Oblivious to the hostile tension, the Lady that called for Ash was situated beside Misty with a small pasted smile on her face and a slightly glazed look. Every now and then, she would appear to slightly jerk herself awake as if from a trance but would slowly recede back into her unaware state. If any of the travelers found her behavior odd, no one mentioned anything and possibly just took it to be the result of riding in a small carriage with a limited amount of space.

For seemingly hours, the oscillating sways of the carriage and the tiresome creaks of the ancient wheels bearing the weight of its passenger and cargo nearly persuaded all to slumber but the ominous rumbles of the overhead thunder made the task impossible.

Of all the many things Misty believed she knew exceedingly well, she thought she knew Ash's behavior almost as well as she knew her beloved Water Pokémon. In the earlier days of their travels, Misty would initially instigate the trouble, sometimes out of mere boredom, Ash would try to retaliate in some way and Brock would wholly ignore their antics until they involved him. Never before had the Cerulean Gym Leader experienced the complete rejection he was giving her.

When they had slowly, _agonizingly_ begun walking once again on the beaten path towards the Cameran Palace, Ash had continued his increasingly annoying disregard of Misty's imitations of a conversation. Though knowing deep down that his anger might be slightly justified, she buried the treasonous emotions of guilt and told them that Ash was just as much to blame.

Just as quickly, she turned to Brock to, on the surface, discuss his new recipe for increasing the strength of Goldeen's scales, but inwardly festering against haughty Ash's refusal to apologize. Though she did not particularly care for the Pewter Gym Leader's longwinded instructions on the proper ingredients needed for the brew, she did get the satisfaction of seeing Ash's annoyance peaking.

From there, the trio continued on until a decrepit carriage pulled into view. The slowly rising hills prevented any of them from being able to see its appearance and the rain did not improve their vision. It was trimmed with olive green paint and had prodigious wheels that were slightly mismatched, speaking of the years the carriage had been functioning overall for the wheels needing to be replaced. A stoic, rotund man, gravely slipped their sleeping bags from their backs and placed it on top and began securing the items and covering them with a surprisingly modern tarp. While going through the thoughtless task, the man started unexpectedly, as if remembering something important and fairly sprinted to the carriage's door. With much flamboyancy, he yanked it open and bowed deeply.

The one they, specifically Ash, came to see, hesitantly rose from the caverns of the vehicle and onto the paved dirt with a strained smile and distant eyes. As she arose, Lady Ilene shielded her eyes, as though there was sunlight, but allowed her arm to fall when she realized it was raining. She distracted Misty from her appraisal of her outfit with an awkward, slight curtsy and then she waved her hand, motioning them to join her in the carriage. When she turned her back to them, they exchanged a quick glance of confusion (Misty and Brock, Ash and Brock, not Ash and Misty, they were not on speaking terms) before following behind the Lady. All of this was done in complete silence.

Surprisingly, Brock made not a single attempt to flirt with the blonde and, when gazed questioningly at by Misty, he shrugged helplessly.

For some reason, whether it was the weather or the company, noise was discouraged; no one felt the need to break the rule, except for Brock's sorry attempts to reconcile the two.

Unlike the musings of the other two, Ash had not glanced at either the vessel meant to carry them towards the castle or its strange caretakers. He did not notice the unusual behavior of the Lady, nor did he pay attention to the gloomy atmosphere. He could only notice the handkerchief tucked into the Lady's sleeves.

Besides his experience with a lost Riolu and his previous adventure in Rota, he had never even heard of Aura before, but thanks to few memories he did have, the Pallet Trainer vaguely remembered how the concept of Aura was supposed to work.

The substance was intertwined with life itself; you could never have one without the other. He also knew that Aura users could manipulate it for their own bidding. This small amount of information was all the knowledge Ash had on the subject. So, how an inanimate object could hold such a powerful amount of Aura in a mere piece of fabric was incomprehensible. Compelling...

Unbeknownst to Ash, during the ride, he had slowly leaned closer and closer to the older woman, his body subconsciously being drawn to the source of Aura.

Ignoring the stares of his friend and the sharp shake of Brock's head, he gave a quick glance towards Lady Ilene's face to safely note that she could not be anymore oblivious.

Because of the cramped quarters of the carriage causing their knees to easily touch the other's legs across from them, the mumbled excuse of needing something from his bag at his feet allowed him to lean drastically forward. His hands reached towards her sleeve, contradicting his spoken intentions. Brock, sitting beside Ash, poked his side; Misty, sitting across from Brock, almost contemplated kicking him in the shins so hard that he would have bruises the color of an Oran and Bluk berry. Almost.

Contrary to her visage, she was very much aware of Ash's pitifully prepared scheme and offered the fabric to him, clinching it tightly in her pale, white grasp. Their hostess held it in the space between them, allowing Ash to only have to reach forward and grab it. Not even bothering to make up an apology for being so nosy, only wanting to solve the conundrum, Ash reached for the mysterious handkerchief…

_

* * *

_

_Oh, why did this happen to him? He thought he had done everything right, but now…_

_This… pain… it was smoldering him…_

_Agony… he did not know that this was what it would feel like…_

_Could it have been planned better? Surely, there must have been a better solution to what had to happen then what was going to happen…_

_He could not decide which one was better, never knowing the outcome or knowing all... all was his fault…_

_Peace would be forever lost to him…_

_He needed to let go. Now._

* * *

Before she could voice her scolding of Ash's odd actions, for a moment, time seemed to be standing still as the fabric bridged the gap between the Lady's and Ash's hand. In the anticipating silence, Misty suddenly noticed the harsher pattering of the rain, giving the illusion of someone screaming.

Wait, that _was_ a scream. Ash, who had scrunched his face and closed his eyes in controlled concentration, released a tormented howl. The carriage came to an immediate halt, jostling its passengers while Misty nearly lounged for the Pallet trainer. Brock shook his arm fiercely trying to snap him out of his trance-like state or at the very least, release the clothe, but to no avail. Pikachu, who had been ignoring them all, burst out of Ash's backpack and was frantically wailing alongside its Pokémon Trainer. Through all of the commotion, Lady Ilene stayed in her statuesque pose.

No one noticed the crueler shift in her demeanor or the slight raising of the corners of her mouth.

A bored voice called out, distorted by the rain, "Milady?"

If there was an answer by any of the inhabitants, the thunder and the rain drowned out all other sounds.

"Ash, let go!" Brock tried to pry it from his hands but, as if his hands were made of steel, they could not be budged. Instead, his shrieking increased, from either Brock trying to separate the two or his imagined pain, Misty did not even bother contemplating. Taking a more direct approach, she smacked the back of Lady Ilene's hand causing the woman to automatically open. Knowing in usual circumstances she would be mortified for behaving so rudely, the Water Pokémon Trainer ignored social standards by justifying that the Lady was doing nothing to help and if she let go, Misty would have a better angle to tug on.

The ornamented woman glowered sharply at the interferer, but the change in her features went largely unnoticed by human eyes though Pikachu's beaded eyes, looking for someone to blame, took the conversion of her face into account for future reference.

After the incessant tugging from the combined strength of Misty and Brock, they managed to tug the handkerchief from his hands. A dazed Ash cringed violently away from the woman across from him. If Misty had ever seen pain before, it was nothing considering the affliction punishing Ash; as she leaned toward him to comfort, she dropped the fabric on the lap of their hostesses who surreptitiously hid it away.

He wrapped his hands around his head to mollify the waves of agony that were ramming against his head. A cool hand placed on his forehead was the last thing he felt before surrendering to unconsciousness.

_Ahhhh. Sweet relief._

The Trainer slumped against Brock and Misty lowered herself back into her seat.

Resettling her position, the Cerulean Gym Leader allowed Pikachu to stay on her lap to watch and guard her best friend, while she, too watched him. She hazily remembered the alteration the two had had beforehand but gave up trying to remember the exact reason for her anger. About to question, out loud _what happened?_ she saw Lady Ilene reaching for him. Misty was nearly overcome with an undeniable anger towards the woman.

Their hostess simply gave them another vague smile and brushed her fingertips against Ash's jawline. Both tensed. Something sharpened in her eyes, making her appear to be more aware then she had ever been during the entire trip. A small smirk, the first true smile, shaped her face and Lady Ilene simply, _cheerfully_ called out, not only to the driver but also to the brewing storm:

"Carry on."

_

* * *

_

Hmmm. I just noticed that I have a serious issue with dialogue. Oh, well, hopefully, there will be more in the next chapter. Please review! I hope to see you again in about two weeks. Once again, sorry about the slow updates and thank you for your patience! Happy New Year's Day!

_Thus, I depart._


	6. Chapter 6

_Hahaha… so…two weeks, two months. What's the difference? *audience gives blank stares* Anyways sorry about the slow updates. Here's a slightly longer chapter with more dialogue; I will not say when, but (hopefully) I'll update soon._

* * *

**An Inheritance**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

All was quiet in the castle.

After being pulled across the drawbridge and ending their journey, the travelers sat in absolute silence, a mirror of the battlement.

Every castle employee seemed to be on edge, even while working on the menial jobs. The pages, usually spiritedly, carried urgent messages and walked with their heads facing downward and a frightened air. Even the generally gossiping ladies-in-waiting were fluttering around the place, looking lost and helplessly moving their hands in the ways of other, in order to provide a semblance of work.

All of this, Misty observed in the first few minutes inside the castle. For some reason, this struck her as odd because she could have sworn Lady Ilene claimed that there was some sort of celebration. Dead silence did not seem celebratory.

After the Pallet Town Trainer's collapse, the group had practically flown into the palace. When she was brutally thrown off the carriage, she would have lost a couple of teeth and a broken nose if not for the quick actions of the Pewter Gym Leader grabbing her left wrist. His heroic grab came at a price though; she could feel a sick twist in her hand and yelped. Lady Ilene apologized profusely, but even her honeyed words could not hide the smug glint in her eyes. After expressing regret, the Lady turned to her entourage and insisted that they get the guest's friends settled.

Before she knew what was happening, Misty was pushed into the vicinity of a surly, oafish woman. Brock was given the same treatment and given the same instructions to wait for the servants to finish preparing a place to sleep. Lady Ilene turned her back to them and purposefully strode away, not even giving them the courtesy of good-bye.

With a burst of inspiration, Misty realized, _She did that on purpose._

The Cerulean Gym Leader could feel her face turning a Kingler red, but Brock, who had not relinquished his grip on her wrist, slid up her arm to prevent further injury, but also to prevent her from running to the woman and punching her face. She sharply turned about-face and was about to yell at him when she realized something important. Ash was not there.

She leaned away from Brock, winced and adjusted her weight as her broken wrist felt the brunt of the strain. Burying her pride, Misty almost called out to the departing woman until she saw Brock slightly shake his head and mouth wordlessly, _Not now_. If it were anyone else, she would have glared and yanked her arm out of his grip and chased after the Lady. However, it was not just anyone, he was her best friend and, when his mind was not clouded by women, he had greater insight than her or Ash. To show she was complying, she slightly declined her head and he completely relaxed his hold.

From there, everything was a blur as the pain in her wrist was intensified; she was forced to lean heavily on Brock's side to avoid complete collapse.

Even if she ignored the nervous tensions floating in the castle and the strange carriage ride, there was one thing Misty could not deny. There was not a single Pokémon here. Having grown up around Water Pokémon, their absence was peculiar and unusual. In such an old culture like the Camerans, Pokémon were generally adored for their versatility and their help to mankind when they were without technology and machines.

At Lady Irene's absence, the livery mustered the courage to approach the strangers and lead them to their rooms. One particularly brave boy with a dimpled grin and blight brown eyes hesitantly offered his shoulder for Misty to sag on. She complied. The decrepit castle was more foreign than her memory allowed—granted, she could not quite remember her previous visit through the haze of pain, but, surely she would have remembered the many twists and turns the group of servants led her and Brock through.

Inside, they were ushered past the kitchen and, in all respects, thrown into their rooms. A moment later, all had disappeared back into their usual duties.

The same boy who had assisted her by letting her lean on him, claimed in a rushed manner, "Right now, the healer is…er… busy. Let me go notify him immediately." He quickly slammed the oaken doors and practically ran away, leaving her alone.

A speedy glance insured that Misty's room was pleasant enough—it was larger than her room in the Cerulean Gym; all the sparse furniture was clean enough and the sheets folded back from the bed were pristine. Everything from the stone floorboards to the wooden dresser to the iron bars melded into the window's frame seemed ordinary, if a bit historical. Than she looked at the tapestry, hanging over her bed. In it, she presumed, was the brief history of the Cameran Kingdom flowing from the past on the left to future on the right. Of course, beginnings were rarely kind and the gruesome war scenes on the left only seemed to agree with her.

Suddenly, Misty felt an overwhelming sense of cageyness. Everything, _everything_, seemed too perfect, some clever guise to fool her into thinking nothing was amiss. Almost as if the castle itself was trying to prove its innocence. As if trying to escape the feeling, she slowly edged away from the room, back towards the oaken doors. Not turning her back on the room for a second, the Cerulean Gym Leader used her good right hand to feel the brass doorknob and cautiously twisted it. After she closed the door with finality, Misty spun around only to slam into the same servant boy with the dimpled grin.

_I've only been with Ash a couple weeks and already I am more injured than I've been in the past few years,_ she absently thought as she gingerly picked herself off the ground and to her knees, favoring her right side heavily.

"Whoa there! Hold your Rapidash! Oh… I'm sorry, miss. A-Are you alright?" A new, inquisitive voice sputtered out. She turned her head and sighed wearily when the world tilted again and a hand drifted into view.

"Give me a second to find my patience. I don't think you'd appreciate a punch to the face," She intoned dryly, waving away the proffered hand, "It's not like I have a broken wrist or something." Once again, she almost considered the validity of staying on the floor to staying upright.

A moment of silence later, the Cerulean Gym Leader fully expected a nervous chuckle and further timidity all the servants seemed to have towards her and Brock. Instead, she received a full-blown guffaw and a bright smile.

"Ha, you're more funny than most strangers that pop around here! What's your name? Ole Coffsworth don't know what he's talking about, neh? Foreigner ain't always stupid." The boy gushed out and spoke cheerfully loud, sharply contrasting the droll surroundings. The servant reached down, grabbed her by the bicep and yanked her to her feet, all while heartily thumping her on the back, somewhat ignoring Misty's protests.

"Umm… Thanks?" The wince did not escape the boy' notice, he ducked his head down in apology. Without her approval, he hooked his arm around her unbroken right

From closer up, his smile was loose and easy-going and the dimple was even more self-evident. He jutted his chin to further down the hallway, as if to point out the way, and gave one final chortle, "Well, come on, kid! We might as well see if Doc can heal you up."

"Great," the Water Pokémon Trainer mumbled, "Another silly boy who thinks he knows best. As if Brock and Ash weren't bad..." In silent horror, Misty drifted off. How could she have forgotten Ash? Where was he? She had seen Brock escorted to his room, right next to hers and, later, the Pewter Gym Leader was sent to the kitchen to pick up food, but she hadn't seen Ash since the carriage door was closed in her face by a triumphant Lady.

Even with all the pandemonium and confusion, she should not have forgotten Ash.

"So, what's your name?" said the young man, carrying on the almost nonexistent conversation, "Mine's Arden." He nearly stopped as if he wanted to have a proper introduction and handshake but, glancing at her clutched wrist and her slightly white face, he shook his head and continued walking towards, assumedly, the infirmary.

Before she could give a retort, inspiration struck. All in all, for all intents and purposes, she, Ash, and Brock were trapped inside a castle, basically prisoners. The pretense of being here for some kind of ceremony was all but in shambles. Her escort was not just there to help her—he was there to watch her; it would be nigh impossible to circumnavigate. _Ilene_, she admitted grudgingly, _is a good tactician_.

Judging by all the castle inhabitants' avoidance of the Gym Leader, answers would be hard to come by. Even if she could procure some information, it seemed that even the workers did not know exactly what was going on. She looked carefully at Arden, seeing him with calculating, speculating eyes for the first time. Intuitively, she knew that a demure positioning would lure everyone into a false sense of security. They would not see the Houndoom in the Mareep's clothing. Of course, for all she knew they were a pack of Mightyena instead of a herd of Mareep. She shoved that unpleasant thought out of mind.

"Well, Ginger, here we are. Are you sure I can't have your name?" She ignored the tease and the slight jab toward her hair and smiled shyly, when they stopped in an unobtrusive hallway. It was barren of all violent scenes and the grotesque battles were not on display; she let out a breath she did not realize she was holding.

"None of your business." was the singsong reply, "but…", she bit her lip tentatively, suggesting to her guide an unanswered request.

"But?" he repeated encouragingly.

"Could we maybe hurry, my wrist is _really_ hurting." With effort, Misty managed to make her eyes slightly water and give a slight sniff she clutched his arm tighter, as if she was scared; Arden's smile softened. Misty's height played to her advantage, he patted her kindly on the head, already shifting his view of her from a sarcastic woman to a slightly amusing girl.

The Cerulean Gym Leader almost smacked his hand away and barked an order to not patronize her; instead, she gritted her teeth in chagrin and endured. _Ash…_

Her hair had been down throughout the entire journey and carriage ride, her private proclamation of adulthood and denouncement of the childish side-ponytail. Now, she pulled her hair back into two ponytails, this time, to capture a youthful faceand placed a few erratic hairs strategically brushed haphazardly behind her ears (_the better to frame my face _was the grim thought).

The boy paused as if to reevaluate her change in personality.

. For a moment, Misty feared that her entire scheme had failed and she had alienated the boy with her shift in personality—boys could be frightened with tears. Hence, she was relieved to hear his easy laughter and his loud voice say, "Sure thing!"

He left her there with strict instructions to not move and to wait for the healer to come to her. Arden left with a boyish grin on his face and his hands in his pockets, whistling a jaunty tune. Before Misty had a chance to sigh, he gave an exclamation of "Oh!" and strode back to her.

"Sorry, I almost forgot. The cook wanted me t' give you this." With little décor, he reached into his pockets and pulled out a rumpled brown paper bag and placed it in her open palms. The servant boy gave a brief smile and fairly sprinted away; this time, he did not return.

Though she was not anyone particularly special, Misty did expect a better meal than sourdough bread and Leppa Juice. Regardless, with the determination she was feeling, she might as well had been feasting on Farfetch'd leg. She leaned against the wall and savored the trickle of the juice, cooling her throat. Idle eyes watched the menservants scurry around.

_No matter_, the Water Pokémon Trainer justified, as she leaned against the stone wall_, all will fall according to plan eventually_.

_Don't worry, Ash, I promise I'll get to the bottom of this. _She clenched the loaf until it was mere breadcrumbs in her fist, her facade was quickly forgotten. _Help is on the way!_

* * *

_So, no need to worry, Arden, the OC, does not have a large part at all. Personally, it annoys me when people turn a fanfic into an original story and take away from the main characters. I will not be doing that; Arden's main purpose was to show Misty's outward actions in comparison to her underlying turmoil._

_Even though it is not officially stated, I see this chapter as the end to the first arc in the story—the exposition—and the beginning of the true story. Thank you, reviewers, for all the encouraging advice and see ya next time!_

_Thus, I depart._


	7. Chapter 7

_August 11, 2011. Hmm…It seems to be that time of the year where I update. Not much to say, but sorry for the wait, hope you enjoy! Oh, and before I forget, I do not own Pokémon in the slightest! Now, I give to you..._

* * *

**An Inheritance**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

The faintest smatterings of light blended through an upper window for several hours before it illuminated the face of a sleeping trainer; a perfect picture of plain placidity.

Ash Ketchum violently jerked awake at the brushing of the pale heat against the bridge and tip of his nose. Giving a heavily glazed glance, the boy dragged himself from the last dregs of sleepiness and into the world of full consciousness. It was not until the teenager unknowingly reached for his best Pokémon friend that he fully came aware of his surroundings, lurched from his peculiar dream.

_Where am I? _The room that he had been contained in was a seemingly sole tower if the cerulean peeking through the windows was anything to gauge by. Unrelenting granite blocks forbade any view of the outer world. Aesthetically pleasing but certainly unpractical, prodigious windows climbed the sides and essentially lay in juxtaposition to its solid, granite giant neighbors. Though they were colossal, they did not begin until twenty feet from floor. The four glass windows were placed, he supposed symbolically facing toward the North, South, East, and West; however, they blurred the sky as well as fortification denied. Along the walls, mahogany shelves with intricate lines curved into it were filled wit books. Few of the tomes had titles in any discernable languages except a few—_A Sound Persuasion of the Merits of Grass Pokémon Roots_; _The Thorough Examination of the Detriments of Toxic Sludge to the Immune System, _and other similar books. None had an author's name.

Teal, moss-like carpet ringed the sides of the tower, providing warm footing even in the harshest Cameran winters.

_All in all, a beautiful prison,_ thought Ash distractedly. The fact that he was placed on a couch that did not match the room's time frame in the slightest which was put between the East and South window and tucked in with blankets gave proof that he was only just recently put in the picturesque room.

As he rose from his bed, with a sharp eye, he noticed that Pikachu's cursory [lace by his head was noticeably lacking body heat. The Pokémon Trainer reached for his belt with trepidation and noted duly that all of the Pokéballs—including extras he carried—were missing.

_No need to worry_ was his mantra as he swung his legs from the coach and placed the unsteady appendages on the ground. He ambled over to the aforementioned book cases and yanked the ancient literature from their original places. In almost a mindless fashion, the pieces of literature were carefully placed to form a short stack, and on the side of that, a slightly larger stack, and on the side of that, an even larger stack, and so on and so forth. Continuing in this manner, making the askew books lie parallel to the cases, Ash created a makeshift staircase to the windows. He carefully lumbered up the precariously placed literature to see if it could support his weight; it could. Hoping against hope, he further climbed his invention towards the lofty window; it was to no avail, they were sealed shut. Only through the complete destruction of the fixtures could he escapes—they would be his last resort. With nothing gained from this venture, he disappointed crawled down to sturdier grounds.

It was only after he turned his attention to the empty shelves that he heard a muffled knocking sound bouncing around the messy tower. The Pokémon Trainer could not locate the cacophony coming from the seemingly endless source. He just began to step towards the center of the room when the exact center opened smoothly upward on oiled hinges.

Lady Ilene, in all of her old relics and vintage clothing came through the open portion. She was clothed in a purple, long-sleeved dress, a rather simple attire; her once perceived charitable smile would have still looked pleasant enough if not for her too wide grin.

"Why, hello, Ash. You are up early. How are you?" She said this inquisitively but Ash could tell by the glaze of her eyes she merely asked the question for decorum's sake. When she tried to pat his shoulder, he backed away distrustfully.

"Oh?" she questioned his behavior, "Have I done something wrong?" Her grin widened, but her eyes had a harsher glint to them this time. Darting from side to side, her eyes swiveled around the room, taking into account the attempts to escape and then back to Ash's face.

He did not answer the loaded question; instead, his hand automatically rose to the side of his head and he scratched it embarrassedly, "S-sorry about the mess… I just wanted to look at the books…

"Ummm…" _Don't make yourself out be a complete dummy_! He berated himself "Thank you for the accommodations. They were, errr, nice. I slept very well and… yeah. Of course a bed would have been… Uh… Never mind! Hahaha!" Ash's poor excuse for a conversation ended with a bout of nervous laughter and a glance towards down the stairs from which the Lady had come from. When he looked back to her face, the Pokémon Trainer almost took a step back in preservation.

The most intense gaze was focused on his countenance—completely ignoring whatever words came from his mouth and studying solely his features. The look was overwhelming enough that it felt like the tower was as large as a Bellsprout's stem.

"A little breathing space?"

Mastering herself, she gave herself a slight shake and warmly said, "Of course, my friend," and beguiling offered her arm to the Pallet Trainer. Coming up with no quick excuse to refuse her and reminding himself that she _was_ royalty, he grudgingly allowed her to hook her arm around his and together they approached the exit from the lovely cage.

Below the wooden opening, a spiral stone staircase cascaded to the floor below. Or at least that is what he assumed; as he could barely see past the first four steps in the gloom dark. There was barely even room for two people to walk side by side. He was about to point out the problem and offer to walk in front of her (to protect her from any intruders coming up the stairs), but Lady Ilene just dragged him along.

The unease he was first feeling in his gut when she arrived, surged tenfold as the strolled downwards. Even when he peeked at her with a sidelong glance, she did not stir from her deep ruminations.

The torches spaced in regular intervals cast an eerie glow on the Lady's face and especially her orbs. To distract himself from the dancing shadows and monotonous gait, he asked her offhandedly, "So," another furtive to her, "Where's Pikachu and the rest of the gang? I'm…not really sure what happened after…the coach, but I know they must be worried about me. Errr, not that they have any reason to be!" he backtracked quickly.

"…Hmmm? Oh. Soon, my young friend." She patted his clenched fist soothingly. She had such an endearing, demure smile on her face that Ash did not even mention that to her that she definitely did not answer his question.

"Here we are." A heavy wooden door swung open with just a slight push from her. Both stepped into the setting sun's beam in the large hall. The dreary aura that surrounded the woman earlier evaporated in the light and only a calmed core was left.

"The sun has already risen to its zenith and there is still much to do. We only have a few more days until you…get your inheritance" When she said the last phrase, the Lady pressed even closer to her. She slanted her crystal emerald eyes toward him; "You are hungry, yes?"

A slight, minute nod.

"I will escort you to the dining room and we shall dine on only the finest fare. Seven of Cameran's most valiant men formed a hunting party to prey against Maghdar, a Tauros, the Great Horning Bull of the Forest. He had been causing many problems in our outlying villages. His hooves ruined many acres of our Cameran grains, and much more would have been ruined if not for the men's courage. It took several moons and a bit of good luck to conquer the beast…"

The Lady continued reporting the going-ons of her Kingdom, but only emotionlessly. With little surprise, Ash's attention wondered and he began to focus on his surroundings. As described in the invitation, everything was being decorated or beautified. There was no calmness, all the servants were constantly in motion, adjusting the tapestries, dusting forgotten corners, and sweeping the granite floors. Every now and then a kitchen servant would scurry with a silver platter, leaving an enticing aroma trail. When they passed a courtyard though, the Pokémon Trainer noticed it was devoid of the festivities.

Astonishingly, the Pokémon that could usually be found in any given environment (Rattata, Pidgey, etc.) were missing. Not even Trainers' Pokémon were visible. Last time he checked, the Cameran kingdom was still a part of the Pokémon League Organization. This was a truly curious phenomenon because most of the creatures would have benefited from the scraps that would flow from the dinner table after the celebration.

"Lady Ilene," Ash interrupted the monologue, "If you don't mind, could you just point the way to my friends?"

"Of course, Ash, but first, there is much that needs to be done before you can see them. There is a festival tonight and many battles will be fought in your name. You need your measurements taken for the formal garment. Also, we must review the format for the ceremony. All of this and more needs to be done before you can have fun." Her voice hardened, "Meeting your acquaintances is not apart of the agenda."

Seeing the teenager's widening burnt umber eyes, she changed her unrelenting tone. "I mean, it's tradition that the inheritor spends two days by himself, secluded from close friends, until everything necessary can be relinquished to him. Of course you still need me to show you the ropes." She rushed to say, interrupting his inquiry. "You've already slept through one day, only one more and you will be released."

"Ummm…fair enough?" It was more of a questioning of the tradition than a confirming statement.

"Perfect." Lady Ilene continued their stroll in a much more eased manner. It was exactly nine more minutes before the silence was tarnished again. "One more thing, Ash Ketchum," For the third time, they stopped in their meanderings. An upraised eyebrow from the Pallet Trainer indicated his approval to continue talking. "Would you take this…before the ceremony…as a favor…for me?" Out of an amethyst hued pouch on her side, she pulled out a pair of worn leather gloves.

The cobalt colored gloves were lined with gold and on the backs, Pecha-sized jewels of aquamarine were inlayed.

It seemed for a moment, the world was balanced on a microscopic point. Futures could fall one way or the other; needless to though, things would change. When he held the gloves he began to think…thoughts that ran concurrent to his usual thought pattern. Perhaps with this first gift, he would receive the power to become even stronger. And then Misty, Misty would lose. That humiliating defeat… that was the last loss he would suffer from anyone. Ash shook his head from the thought. _What was that?_

All of the macabre courtesy shown to the travelers at this point paled in comparison to the glorious smile she displayed as a Charmander's flame is belittled by a Moltres' inferno.

Now, both figures headed towards the kitchen; one stood erect with unbridled happiness, the other slouched with ever growing reluctance. Neither of the two walkers, however, noticed the sienna beaded-eyes that followed, hidden in the rafters, nor did they hear the soft, uneasy _Chuu_ camouflaged in the blowing wind.

* * *

_Well, I'll be seeing you around. Please remember to review!_

_Thus, I depart._


End file.
